Anything!
by DopeyTheChosen1
Summary: When Captain Hammer follows Billy home, trashes his lab, and steals something valuable, Billy declares that he will do anything to get it back . . . and, yes, he DOES mean ANYTHING! ...Warning: Slash-ish...
1. FOLLOWED

_**Chapter One: Followed**_

It was the end of a long, hard, and painful day. He honestly hadn't counted on being caught. The plan seemed easy enough. Or it did when he was rehearsing it in his bedroom, anyway. It went all wrong when he took it outside and tried it in the real world, though.

For starters, he hadn't even made it to the front door of the bank. There were several police cars parked outside already. Apparently some common thug had tried to break in and had alerted the authorities to the valuable gems within one of the bank's largest vaults. Of course they had no idea what the gems were a wonderful source of cheap energy. He doubted that many people knew about that.

What really got to him was that he hadn't even _done_ anything when he was spotted crouching behind a car across the street. The cops didn't bother him that much (he had a getaway car waiting for him around the block, just in case something went screwy. Which it did, of course), but, most annoyingly, a certain someone had chosen that moment to come out of the building behind him and set to punching his face inside out.

He was aching all over by the time he escaped the insanity that had ensued mere seconds after being discovered. It was a slow drive back home because he didn't trust his throbbing arm to have much control over the wheel, but he finally made it. He parked the borrowed car a block away from the building, in case someone recognized it, and walked the rest of the way.

Once inside, he flopped down on the couch, burying his face between two of the cushions and allowing wave after wave of throbbing pain to wash over his body. He slowly became aware of a new pain on his forehead and realized that his goggles were pinching his skin. He lazily pushed them aside with a gloved hand, wincing at the effort. He knew that the pain he felt now as nothing compared to what he'd be feeling the next morning.

What he really needed was a long, warm bath before bed. With this thought in mind, he forced himself off the couch and stood up, a bit shaky on his feet. He leaned against the couch, keeping his balance with one hand as he took his goggles off with the other and dropped them on the carpet.

He slowly made his way across the floor, but had to rest in the dining room before continuing. He sat at the table, his face resting in his hands. He couldn't remember any beating that came close to this. Hopefully it was just a shock on his body because he'd been pretty inactive during the last week and a half.

He ran his fingers through his hair and glanced up, groaning when he saw that he had left the front door open to the world. He stood up again and shuffled back to the couch, sinking down into the cushions to rest his throbbing legs for a few seconds. He knew it was a mistake as soon as he sat down. Now he just wanted to lie there and sleep.

But he really should shut the door . . .

But he was so tired . . .

But someone might come in and--

"Dr. _Horrible_!"

His eyes popped open and stared at the figure in the doorway. For a second he couldn't believe what he was seeing, but one of his worst fears was confirmed as the bulky man strode across the floor to stand by the couch and glance around the room.

"I never would have suspected _this_! A little farm house in the country perhaps, but not this run down place in the middle of town!" Captain hammer exclaimed, his joy at his nemesis' bad luck apparent on his beaming face. "I knew you were something of a _loser_, but you live in this tiny little place? Aren't villains supposed to live in fancy manors with secret rooms and hidden weapons?"

"Where did you come from?" Dr. Horrible finally managed to choke out once he had found his voice. His throat was incredibly dry and felt like it was caked in dust. He didn't notice it, though. He was too preoccupied with the fact that his number one enemy was standing in his living room.

Captain Hammer grinned and knelt beside Dr. Horrible, resting a hand on the doctor's shoulder and grinning in a superior way. "You see, doctor, the vast majority of cars have things called _license plates_ these days. You know, a series of letters and num--"

"I _know_ what a license plate is," Dr. Horrible spat, his voice little more than a weak whisper. "How did you _get in he_--?"

His question was cut short when Captain Hammer ensnared his neck in a vice-like grip with one of his hands. The victim could barely get enough air and had to struggle to keep from slipping away. He didn't know why he fought it, though. Surely release into oblivion would be better than the pain that was sure to come. He was finished, anyway. His arch-nemesis had discovered where he lived. What was to stop him from murdering him in his sleep?

Given, of course, the fact that he didn't snap his neck that instant.

"You are in a very . . . delicate position, doctor," Captain Hammer said quietly with a haughty smile. "If I were you--which I'm not, thank God--I'd watch my tongue.

"But, back to your question," He glanced around the room again and a short laugh escaped his throat. "I'm sorry, but you actually _live_ here? That's sad . . . that's very sad . . ."

Horrible couldn't speak, so instead he glared at the "hero" with as much disgust as he could muster. The effort shot too much pain through his face, though, and he had to give it up after a second or two and may have just come across as looking incredibly sick to his stomach.

"I followed you, to sum it all up. Lost you in the traffic a few minutes after you ran off, but soon saw the car and then you. Just barely caught a glimpse of you going around the corner. I'm lucky to have seen you at all, actually," he said with a pondering look that suggested that the idea had just occurred to him. "Oh well. I'm here now. That's all that matters, right?"

He threw the villain back against the couch with such force that he heard his neck pop. Smiling in self satisfied way, Captain Hammer stood up and paced back and forth, smirking at his captive.

"I know what you're worried about, doc," he said with that arrogant tone, which was just one of many things that made Dr. Horrible despise him so. "But you don't need to be. I'm not going to go running to the police and tell them where you . . . live. Where's the fun in that? I don't want to destroy you behind closed doors. No one would know about it. Oh, no. I want a public audience when I finish you.

"But, in the meantime, I think I'll make your life A.S.A.P," He leaned in close to Horrible, so close that the doctor could smell his minty-fresh breath. He grinned and slowly said, "As . . . Shitty . . . As . . . Possible . . ."

Before Dr. Horrible could try to think of what this meant, Hammer had reared back and thrown a coffee mug into the television. The owner of the damaged items tried to shout in rage, but it came out as a cracked whisper. He did manage to stand up, but only to have Captain Hammer grab the back of his neck and fling him, head first, through the computer screen.

He heard his nose crack as glass and bits of wire tore at his face. Through the pain he found what little of his sanity that remained mentioning what a good idea it had been to turn off the computer that morning, or his face would be fried by now.

He tasted the blood as it welled up in his mouth and rushed through his clenched teeth, dribbling over his lip and dripping down to his lab coat as he pulled himself up off the desk. Judging by the sounds echoing all around him, Captain Hammer was enjoying himself as he tore apart the kitchen.

Dr. Horrible tried to turn around and face his attacker, but his hands slipped on the swivel chair he was using to keep himself up and he found himself falling.

Fortunately, someone caught him from behind.

Unfortunately, that same someone spun him around and landed a punch that sent him sprawling to the floor and into the dark world of unconsciousness.


	2. STOLEN

_Crapola! I forgot to put in a disclaimer in the first chapter! Sorry!_

_**I do not own Dr. Horrible or any of the other characters. I **__**wish**__** I owned Billy, but, sadly enough, I do not.**_

_**Chapter Two: Stolen**_

He awoke in darkness, his face glued to the carpet with dried blood. For a minute he just lay there, simply experiencing the pain. His nose was broken--or at least it felt like it. He slowly lifted his head off the ground, wincing as the layers of dried blood pulled at his skin before sticking to the carpet.

He managed to stand and stumble through the darkness and into the bathroom. As he went, his feet met many unidentified objects that were not where they were supposed to be. He was glad all the lights were off. He really didn't want to deal with fixing this place up tonight. All he wanted was sleep.

He had to force open the bathroom door because it was hanging strangely on its hinges. He flicked on the light and saw that, other than the door, the bathroom hadn't taken too much damage. Meaning that the mirror was in one piece, although it had a thick layer of shaving cream over it. The shower curtain had been ripped from the wall and the contents of every bottle of shampoo and every tube of toothpaste he owned was floating around in the tub like some strange fluffy and minty concoction.

He sighed and wiped some of the shaving cream off the mirror with one of his gloves before taking both of them off. He grimaced when he saw his reflection. His bruised and broken face was covered in a mask of blood, some of which was fresh and dripping all over the counter.

He dug around in the drawers below the sink--which were all practically empty now--until he found a wash cloth.

After getting the majority of the blood off and making sure that his nose wasn't broken _too_ badly, he turned the light off and trekked to his bedroom, which was in a much worse state than the bathroom.

Not a single piece of furniture, with the exception of his bed and bedside table, was left standing and his personal possessions were scattered all over the floor. He heard CDs cracking under his feet as he struggled out of his blood splattered clothes and into some clean pajama bottoms before throwing himself onto the bed.

The mattress had taken a beating, too. It was ripped all over the place, stuffing and springs were sticking out here and there. One such spring was poking into his stomach as he lay there. He didn't care though. All he wanted was to sleep, which he did.

------{^_^}------

His prediction had been right. His body felt like it had been hit by a truck. Several trucks. And a steam roller.

He was very annoyed by the sunlight that was pouring through the broken window. Squeezing his eyes shut against it, he tried to will away everything about the day before. When he opened them again, he wanted the pain to disappear. He wanted the energy gems to be back in their original vault, the one that he had an access code to. He wanted his apartment put back together. And, most of all, he wanted Captain Hammer's memory modified. He didn't want anyone other than a few close friends to know where he lived.

Captain Hammer was _definitely_ not a close friend.

He groaned and rolled onto his back, the loose spring scraping along his bruised skin as he did so. He winced and thought about how he would probably have to move. He couldn't keep living here. It was only a matter of time before the idea of his archenemy being able to waltz into his room at any time he pleased turned him into a paranoid wreck.

He opened one of his eyes just a crack and glanced at the cell phone on his bedside table. Miraculously enough, the phone was undamaged except for a light scratch on the screen, which was announcing that it was already one in the afternoon. There was also a flashing icon on the screen. He had a message.

He used one finger, the nail of which was cracked and bleeding, to check the caller ID. It was Moist, so instead of listening to the message, he just hit "call back" and put it on speakerphone.

"Hey, Doc, did ya' get my message?" Moist asked, having picked up after only one ring.

"Yeah, but I didn't listen to it," Billy said, forcing himself into a half sitting position. God, he hurt. "What's up?"

"Just wondering what happened yesterday," Moist said casually. Billy suspected that his friend already knew that the mission had been a fail.

"Got caught," Billy sighed, experimentally stretching his limbs. Nothing seemed broken. Other than his nose, possibly. "Captain Hammer saw me."

"Oh, no way! He's supposed to be out of town this weekend!" Moist exclaimed sympathetically. "I can't believe he--what's that sound?"

He was referring to Billy trying to stand up, his feet crunching another CD as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. He blinked and said, "Just a CD. They're scattered everywhere. Hammer trashed my place."

"_What_?" Moist asked. "How did he--"

"Saw Pink's car and followed me home. Put my face through the computer and totally destroyed the place . . . and me . . ."

"Jeeze, man," Moist sighed. "Do you want me to come over and help you pick up?"

"Yeah, that would be--" His voice dried up. He'd been surveying the ruins that surrounded him and now his eyes were fixed on a blank space on the shelf across the room. "It's gone. Moist . . . it's gone!"

"What? What's gone?"

Billy tore through the debris, searching for what was probably the most important thing in his life right now. Without it, his next plan was pointless. It was why he needed those gems in the first place. His very existence depended on that one item.

"What? What is it? Hey, calm down. Talk to me." Moist instructed, trying to get his friend to relax a little bit. Billy was only half listening, though. He was going through every little piece of junk in the room, his injuries and pains forgotten. He could feel the panic rising in his chest and slightly nodded when Moist said, "I'm coming over. Don't do anything stupid. I'll be right there."

Billy had worked his way through the hallway and was starting on the kitchen when Moist arrived. Billy's henchmen and friend stared for a second at the carnage and only snapped out of his trance when Billy threw a frying pan (that was bent in half) at him and demanded he help him look.

After a few hours of searching and cleaning, they hadn't found the mysterious object that Billy was so keen on recovering. Moist wasn't sure what it was, but guessed that it was pretty important judging by the crazed look in Billy's eyes.

Evening was approaching by the time they had slumped onto the couch, exhausted. They had managed to separate the trash from the decent objects, but still hadn't found whatever "it" was. Even though the apartment was pretty well destroyed, Billy thankfully noted that Captain Hammer hadn't found his laboratory.

"So, what's missing?" Moist asked once they'd been resting a few minutes.

Billy groaned. Now that the adrenaline and panic had worn off, he was beginning to feel the throbbing pain again. All his running around had made it worse, and he didn't even want to try moving his lips enough to speak.

Finally he said, "You know that latest plan I've been rambling about?" Moist nodded as Billy tried to clear his throat and hacked up a disgusting mixture of spit and blood. His voice was diminished to a croaky whisper as he said, "The main part of it . . . is gone. He must have taken it . . . but I don't know why . . ."

"It's because he hates you," Moist said, his tone suggesting that it was the most obvious thing in the world.

They sat in silence for a moment. Moist wrestled with a can of mixed nuts he had found under the couch cushion, trying to assess the extent of his friend's injuries. Sometimes he pushed himself too far, but it was sort of hard to tell just when he'd reached his limit. Moist was pretty sure he hadn't seen anything like this . . . not for a long time anyway. Hopefully, Billy would take it easy for a week or two to give his body time to heal.

"What are you going to do?" Moist asked, breaking the painful silence. "About . . . about the stolen . . . _thing_?"

"Anything," Billy whispered, his eyes closing. Moist could tell he was about to fall asleep. "Anything to get it back . . . whatever it takes . . . anything . . ."


	3. CHANGED

**Edit: Please note that the bold text in this is just showing where it was edited so that people who read the original version can find it easier. It has nothing to do with anything other than that. Don't let it bug you.**

_{You know, I was having doubts about posting this because it's so weird . . . but, oh well. I've already put up two chapters and I have readers, so I guess that I'm pretty much committed . . .}_

_Before you read this chapter, please understand that this is where it starts getting weird. While this fic is written much more seriously than the majority of my other ones, it still has some weird-ass ideas in it. From here on out, have an open mind. This fic is going to be realistic in the way that it COULD happen, not in the way that it WOULD or is GOING TO happen. So please don't flame me saying that Billy would never do this. This is a fanfiction and for the sake of the fanfiction, this has to happen. Otherwise, it's just the first two chapters and there is no plot._

_Thanks for reading my shit, now please continue and enjoy!_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own "Dr. Horrible" or any of the related characters. I wish I owned Billy, but I do not.**_

_Chapter Three: Changed_

Moist was called back to Billy's lab about a week later. He was hoping to find him relaxing and taking it relatively easy, but knew he wasn't going to before he even opened the door.

The door to the laboratory was open Billy was nowhere in sight. Moist helped himself to a can of soda pop that was sitting on the (now three-legged) coffee table before heading to the lab. He could just see the top of Billy's head on the other side of the big white board in the middle of the room. He knocked on the wall to announce his and Billy's face appeared for a second before hiding behind the board again.

"Be right with you, Moist. Just let me get my shirt on."

"Sure," Moist said, casually leaning against a stack of boxes in one of the corners of the room. The Doc was constantly doing whacky experiments, so Moist wasn't exactly concerned by him wandering around half naked. He was much more worried about the violent display of color that covered Billy's face and what he'd seen of his chest. There were yellow, purple, blue, green, and black bruises mixed in with an assortment of bright red scratches.

"How're you doin'?" He asked conversationally, opening his soda as Billy came around the corner. "Is your face--_Christ_! What the hell are _those_!?"

Billy grinned in an idiotic way, causing the bruises to pale in color. He patted his chest and said in a disturbingly proud way, "My newest creation."

"You gave yourself boobs." Moist said, his face a mix of disbelief and disgust as he stared at his friend's chest.

"_Breasts_, Moist, they're called _breasts_," Billy corrected him. Somehow he managed to maintain a serious disposition despite the new additions to his chest.

"Okay, but what in God's name made you _put_ them there?"

"The plan." Billy said, grinning brightly. "It all makes perfect sense, actually." He turned the white board around, revealing a collection of photos of women and a news paper article. "See, this is how I'm going to get back what Captain Hammer stole from me."

He took a small red object from his pocket and held it up for Moist to see. "This is another part of the plan. It's a--dude, my eyes are up here."

"Sorry, man," Moist said, quickly snapping his head up to meet Billy's eyes. "But . . . are those real? They're not, are they?"

"What? Good God no!" Billy chuckled, lifting up his shirt to reveal what looked like a clear plastic tank top with a pair of fake breasts on it. "It's just a suit . . . thing."

"**Oh, good . . . but what's that?" Moist asked, indicating what looked like a little purple disk between the breasts.**

"**This is a key part in the disguise," Billy explained. "It's a hologram. See?" He pressed a silver button on the disk. There was whirring noise, a beep, and then Billy's appearance changed rather dramatically.**

**To put it simply, his figure changed to that of a woman's. His features became more slender and rounder. His hands and feet became smaller and more delicate looking and, overall, he looked softer.**

"**So now I look much more female, but I only look that way . . . do you understand what I'm saying?" Billy asked.**

"**I think so," Moist mused. "Take your waist for example. Although it looks like a girl's, if someone were to hug you, it would feel like a guy's."**

"**Exactly."**

"**Nice," Moist said. "Very . . . feminine . . . but, I have a question. If you could just make yourself look like this, then why did you need the boobs?"**

"**Because the shirt would lie flat on my chest," Billy explained. "Because it would only **_**look**_** like I have boobs, and my chest would really be flat so the shirt would just lie flat."**

"**Then why don't you program the hologram to make it look like you're wearing a shirt?"**

"**. . . Because the author didn't plan this out very well and is very tired," Billy snapped. "She just wants to get this chapter done with and move on with the plot. It's not really important **_**how**_** I look female, just that I **_**do**_** look female . . . which I do . . . and no one, not even Captain Hammer (who's dumb as toast), can tell the difference . . . you got it?"**

"**Yeah, I think so," Moist said. "Please, carry on with the plan."**

"Right," Billy said, putting his shirt back down and taking out the red device again. It looked a lot like an MP3 player and, when Billy pressed a button a little piece of silver metal popped out of it.

"This is a voice changer. Observe," Billy put the silver metal piece to his throat, near his voice box, and flicked a switch on it. There was a little zapping noise and when Billy spoke again, it was in the voice of a young woman. "See? Twelve hours of this . . . not now, though. I set it to give me just five minutes worth for the first few times I used it."

Moist nodded slowly, still not quite taking it all in. "So, your boobs are great, your voice is scary, believable, but scary . . . what about your face?"

Billy smiled again and disappeared behind the board, reappearing with a wig and what appeared to be another piece of plastic. He handed Moist the wig and showed him the plastic. "For my face," he said in his natural voice, putting the plastic on his face.

It was a mask, and a really good one, too. It aligned perfectly with his face and fitted like a second layer of skin. Moist made a surprised noise. It did its job incredibly well. It not only changed the look of his face, but it also had some make up on it to make him completely unrecognizable.

"This way I won't have to paint a face on every day," Billy said happily, the mask moving with his jaw and lips. If Moist hadn't known it was a mask already, he would never had suspected it. Billy took the wig and put it on next. It was short and balck with a sort of punky style to it. Billy pulled and tugged on it to show how well it was stuck to his hair. It complimented his face beautifully and completed the disguise.

Billy zapped his voice box again, smiled sweetly, and spun around so Moist could see what he'd changed himself into. After he did his three-sixty turn, he put his hands on his chest and cocked his hip to the side, assumed a girlish pose and said, "Well? Say something!" In his adopted voice.

Moist stared for a few seconds before saying, "Congratulations. You're a drag queen."

Billy smacked his friend's shoulder and said, "I am not!"

"Okay, then what are you? A prostitute?"

"Excuse me? Where did you pull _that_ out of?"

"Well, think about it. You're a gay prostitute. You disguise yourself as a woman to trick both straight and gay guys into hiring you. Means double the business," Moist shrugged. "It's how you think."

"How do you know how a gay prostitute thinks?" Billy asked suspiciously.

Moist remained silent.

"Anyway, this is how I'm going to infiltrate Hammer's defenses," Billy explained. "I'll--"

"Seduce him?"

"No, I'm--"

"Going to seduce a security guard!" Moist exclaimed, snapping his fingers as though he'd just answered the million dollar question.

"_No_!" Billy shouted, his artificial voice wearing off. "I'm going to disguise myself as one of his fans. He's giving a tour of his house this weekend. I've already got a ticket for it."

"But why a _female_ fan?" Moist asked, not seeing his friend's logic.

Billy shrugged. "I dunno. Just seemed like a better idea, I guess."

"So you can seduce him?"

"Would you _shut up_?" Billy roared. "I am _not_ going to seduce him! I'm just going to sneak around his house during the tour. . .what time is it?"

"What? Oh," Moist, caught off guard by the random question, checked his watch. "Almost noon. Why?"

"The tour starts in an hour!" Billy exclaimed. He grabbed a black sweatshirt and ran out of the lab, headed for the front door.

"Wait! Where are you going?" Moist asked, following him into the living room.

"The tour! I've only got two days--I've got to make them count!" Billy said, sliding the voice changer into the pocket of his jeans.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Moist said, grabbing his friend's arm and pulling him away from the door. he checked him over, taking in the sloppy T-shirt, baggy jeans, and frayed sweatshirt. "You can't parade around as a Captain Hammer groupie--"

"Fan."

"--Fan, whatever. My point is that you can't go out dressed like that!"

"Why not?" Billy asked, eager to be on his way. He would only have a few hours each day, which probably wouldn't be enough to search the entire house. In his mind he began planning where he would look first.

"Because then you'd look like a twisted guy who gave himself fake boobs--_breasts_, okay, _breasts_--and a mask in order to sedu--_trick_, in order to _trick_ Captain Hammer."

"So do you want me to do? Get a whole new wardrobe?" Billy asked sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Moist grinned and took the car keys off the coffee table. "We can take Pink's car. I'll drive."


	4. CLOTHED

_**Attention!**__ Chapter Three has been edited. I made the edited part __**bold**__, so you can hopefully find it better. You should go and read that before continuing, or you might get confused. Thanks to Nubial Sheep and Kia for helping out with Chapter Three._

_**Disclaimer: I do not own "Dr. Horrible", "Mrs. Doubtfire", "Some Like It Hot", "Tootsie", or any of the related characters. I wish I owned Billy, but I do not.**_

_Chapter Four: Clothed_

It was nearing five o'clock by the time they got back to Billy's apartment, their arms laden with bags of clothes, shoes, and accessories. Most of them had been picked out by Moist, who assessed nearly everything Billy had tried on.

Billy had planned on buying only a few pairs of pants and a couple of T-shirts at the most. Moist had other ideas, though. He said that Billy should have a full wardrobe so he'd have choices on what to wear and back up outfits for in case anything got dirty.

"You know a lot about this sort of thing, Moist," Billy commented as he dumped the bags on his bed. He tried helping Moist match up tops and bottoms that worked together, but he wasn't much help.

"Yeah, well I do a lot of shopping for my sister," Moist shrugged, looking over a pair of pants and not meeting Billy's eyes. "She's sick, see, and can't get out of the house much."

"I didn't know you had a sickly sister," Billy grinned, taking the clothes Moist handed him.

"Yeah, well I do," Moist smiled back, walking out of the room. "Put those on."

"Okay," Billy rolled his eyes and shut the door before changing into the new clothes. The shopping trip had been excruciating. Moist made him wear his disguise so they'd know what clothes looked good on him. He honestly didn't know why he (or anyone else) needed so many clothes. He was only going to be playing this charade for two days at the most. All he really needed was a couple of shirts and a pair of pants. In the end, though, he'd need another closet to store all this junk.

He threw on the purple shirt and white pants Moist had picked out for him, then opened the door to show his friend.

"That's great," Moist said, examining the outfit. "You'll probably want to wear a sweatshirt, though. Even with the hologram on, your arms aren't all that feminine."

"Yeah, I know," Billy muttered darkly. He was getting pretty grumpy because he'd wasted his first day getting ready. The tour or today was over in fifteen minutes or so. He'd _really_ have to make tomorrow count.

"I'm just pointing it out," Moist said defensively. "You can wear that black one with the white flowers on it. Now, as for your legs. These pants are nice because they're not too tight. You won't be able to wear skirts or anything because of your legs, for the same reason as your arms, I mean. What might be cute is if you--"

"Moist?"

"What?"

"What's wrong with you?"

"Hey," Moist chuckled. "I'm not the one wearing fake boobs and low rider jeans, am I?"

"Whatever," Billy grumbled, peeling off the mask and wig. When Moist protested, he snapped, "What? This thing gets freakin' _hot_ after a few hours . . . . I should try to make it thinner and put some pores in it or something . . . make it more _breathable_."

"Doc, please. Can we focus on the matter at hand?" Moist asked, taking the mask and wig and throwing them on the bed. "You need to plan out what you wear carefully."

"What is there to be careful about?" Billy demanded. "I grab a shirt, throw on some pants, pick up a bracelet or something and go! It's not that hard!"

"Do you want to be as authentic as possible?" Moist asked seriously. "You do, don't you? Well, within reason of course . . . I'm not saying you should get a sex change just to raid a house . . . but that's not my point. If you really want to pull this off, you've got to dress _nice._ Casual, but _nice_. You've seen those Hammer fangirls, right? We all have. They dress to impress."

"They do _not_," Billy scoffed, crossing his arms. It was pretty awkward because of his modified chest. "They wear short shorts and those stupid Hammer T-shirts!"

"Just _think_ about it!" Moist insisted. "You're a Captain Hammer fangirl! You don't have a Hammer T-shirt and you don't have any way of getting one! You want to impress him with your style, don't you? Of course you do! For God's sake, you worship him! You need to make your presence known! Make him notice you!"

Billy stared at Moist for a second, then said, "Thanks for the pep talk, but I don't _want_ to be noticed. I'm trying to sneak away from the main tour group . . ."

"Exactly! You need to stick out in order to blend in! Everyone else is going to be all dressed up, so you'd be much more noticed if you went in there in a T-shirt and jeans . . . get it?"

"I guess so," Billy shrugged, yawning. It was starting to get late and he'd been up all night perfecting the voice changer. He wanted to finish planning for tomorrow and get a good night's sleep so he'd be ready. "You're sayin' I gotta dress like a prep to blend in with the preps, therefore making myself nearly invisible."

"Right!" Most exclaimed. "So I think you should wear these, that black hoodie, and then throw on a necklace or something."

"Whatever you say," Billy grumbled. "You know more about this than I do."

"Precisely. Now try on the camo pants with the flared leg," Moist instructed, turning around so Billy could change. "And what made you think of this whacko plan, anyway? I mean, it's a good one and it'll most likely work, but . . . it's just _weird_. Where you up late watching _Mrs. Doubtfire_?"

"No," Billy said, struggling into the pants Moist had pointed out. They had about seven buttons on the front that just did _not_ want to fasten.

"Then what was it?" Moist asked, half joking. "_Some Like It Hot_?"

"_Tootsie_," Billy admitted, stretching his legs against the tight fabric. "_Tootsie_, some Pepsi, and a lot of pain killer . . . not a good combination. How's this?"

"Great. Might be a bit tight at the knee, though," Moist said, kneeling down to inspect it. "You know, you might want to practice with the voice changer. So you'll be use to the voice."

Billy groaned at the thought of working on it some more. The little red gadget had given him enough trouble already--last night it blew off one of his eyebrows. Luckily, he had learned from past mistakes and made a solution that grew his hair back instantly when applied to the skin.

"Yeah, I guess I better," He said. "I've only used it for those first three times. It'd give me a chance to work out all the bugs--if there are any."

He zapped his voice box and practiced his speech and experimented with new personalities. He hadn't put much thought into creating an identity for the girl he would be pretending to be. Hopefully there wouldn't be any need for one because he shouldn't have to talk to anyone except for whoever took his ticket at the tour. Even so, it might be a good plan to have at least half an idea about who she is. Just in case.

He spent the next couple of hours practicing his voice and acting in front of the mirror while Moist gave him tips and prepared his clothes for the big day.

Moist turned out to be a great help. He pointed out all these little things that girls do subconsciously, such as brushing back their hair or checking their makeup in little compact mirrors. Billy didn't know how Moist knew all this stuff or where he'd picked it up, but he didn't say anything.

Moist even coached him through eating the macaroni and cheese he microwaved for dinner. He ate it with the mask and wig on, taking special care to make it appear as though he was trying not to mess up his lipstick.

All in all, Billy felt pretty accomplished when he climbed into bed that night. He was still sort of nervous about tomorrow, but was sure he could pull it off. The voice changer was in the pants pocket along with the ticket for the tour. He didn't want to lose them.

As he lay in bed, waiting for sleep to come, he went over the plan in his head. There was a nervous feeling in his stomach that kept him awake but finally he told himself that it wouldn't do any good if he was too tired in the morning, and finally slept.

------{^_^}------

_**Gah! I feel like this chapter isn't written very well. The basic idea of it is that he's pretty much ready for tomorrow.**_


	5. INTRODUCED

_-shakes a cattleprod at all the people who are reading but not reviewing-_

_Review, damn you! Reviews make my day! And I want to hear what you think about this thing that you somehow think is a decent fanfiction!_

_(I kid. You don't have to review if you don't want to, but it is greatly appreciated and makes me feel special____)_

**I do not own Dr. Horrible or any of the related characters. Being the greedy biotch that I am, I wish that I owned Billy **_**and**_** Hammer, but I do not.**

**Chapter Five: Introduced**

Moist drove Billy to the tour after lunch. They parked across the street and for awhile they both just sat there and watched the group that was gathering outside the front door of the building that was to be toured that day. Both were humbled by the grand mansion, and wondered when Captain Hammer was going to make his much anticipated and appreciated appearance.

Finally, after seven minutes and forty-seven seconds of silence, Billy spoke. "I don't think I can do this, Moist."

Moist laughed. "Are you kidding me? You're the only guy I've known to make fake boobs out of scraps lying around his house! If you can do that, you can do _anything_."

A small smile twitched at the corner of Billy's mouth as Moist continued, "Besides, what's the worst that could happen?"

Billy laughed harshly. "Rape, probably," he growled, then muttered, "Assuming he doesn't kill me and throw me in a dumpster after finding out who I am."

Moist shrugged it off. "If he hits on you, tell him you're not interested. Besides, there'll probably be some other tramp waiting in line. Don't worry about it."

"Yeah," Billy said with a small grin. He was trying to convince himself that this was worth it. Of course it was _worth_ it, but was it a good idea?

He couldn't see any other way to do it, and it had to be done. He sighed and dug around in his purse for the compact mirror he was carrying with him now and checked on his wig and mask in such a way that the oblivious outsider would think he was a young woman checking out her makeup.

He shut the compact mirror and looked up to see Moist staring at him with his mouth hanging open just a bit. Billy said, "What? I'm getting _in the mood_."

"Right," Moist said, looking away and swallowing his sarcastic reply. Billy was already nervous enough--he didn't need anymore "prostitute" jokes. "You going now?"

Billy sighed. He still couldn't believe there wasn't any other way to do this. There were plenty of villains who specialized in stealing things from heavily guarded areas. He knew one or two of the less popular ones that owed him a favor (although they would never admit it), but they couldn't be trusted with a job like this. Even if they found what Billy wanted them to, who was to say that they'd give it back to him? They were sure to realize its power and keep it for themselves.

No, there was no other way. It had to be him. It had to be this disguise.

"Yeah," Billy said, his hand clutching his handbag. The hard part was getting out of the car and walking up to the group that was amassing outside the mansion. There weren't as many people as he would have hoped. The majority of the fans had gotten tickets for the previous day, so there were only about two dozen people across the street.

Billy took a deep breath, searched in his handbag for the voice changer, and said to Moist, "Well, here I go." Then he zapped his voice box and got out of the car.

To the untrained eye, it would appear that the horde of Captain Hammer fans was completely ignoring the new girl. They all went about their business: selling T-shirts, mugs, and other merchandise; gossiping about other heroes (and, in hushed tones, the occasional villain that caught their eye); and, every now and then, one of them would let out a fangirl scream of horror that sent shivers down the spine of every "normal" person in a ten mile radius.

In reality, every single one of those nutjobs was paying special attention to the girl that quickly and silently crossed the street. They took in her punky black hair, excellent makeup, and perfect eyelashes. They approved of her unzipped black hoodie, violet top, and white jeans. They noticed the way she picked at the bottom of her shirt and nervously clutched her handbag. She kept her eyes on the ground and didn't speak to anyone, keeping to herself at the edge of the crowd.

It was obvious that she was new to the Captain Hammer fandom. Something needed to be done about that.

A silent signal went through the mob of fanboys and -girls, alerting them to the problem. Without a word, they singled out one of the more experienced fangirls and gave her the job of dealing with the newest addition to their ranks.

Her name was Julie and she was a "people" person. She could look at someone and immediately adjust her own personality to fit theirs.

She was at the T-shirt booth nearest the mansion's front door when she got the message. She casually scanned the crowd until she found her target. The girl was lurking towards the wall of the mansion, anxiously glancing around her every now and then. Julie new the type: shy, alone, and nervous about being in a new environment.

Changing herself into a more comforting person, Julie grabbed a navy blue (_"It'll match the new girl's gloves perfectly! Squee!"_) Captain Hammer T-shirt and wandered over to the girl.

Billy was beginning to have second thoughts about the whole plan as he made his way through the crowd. The fans seemed to move as a single unit, like a hive of bees or something, and it was starting to creep him out.

He carefully fought through the mass and found himself up against the mansion's wall. At least no one had noticed him. Maybe this would be easier than he thought.

Then he saw it--a slight movement towards the front of the crowd. A girl with wavy brown hair was headed his way. When she noticed him looking at her, she flashed him a grin. He knew there was no escape. He was about to be introduced to the inside world of Captain Hammer fans.

"Hi!" The girl said, coming through the crowds to stand beside him. She thrust out her hand for him to shake and continued in a peppy voice, "My name's Julie! I couldn't help but notice that I've never seen you before. Are you new in town?"

Billy was a bit put off by the sudden greeting, but he shook her hand anyway. he was glad he'd decided to throw on the gloves at the last second before leaving that morning. He hadn't planned on touching anyone.

"My name's Bill--" he felt a jolt in his stomach, but caught himself and smoothly continued. "--ings, Samantha Billings."

If Julie noticed his hesitation, she didn't show it. She handed him a Captain Hammer T-shirt and said, "Here, you'll want to put this on. _Everyone_ is wearing them!"

Billy new her words were true. There wasn't a single person wearing anything other than those obnoxious Hammer shirts that he despised so much. Even Julie was wearing a lime green one--it matched her eyes. If he really wanted to fit in, he'd have to wear the infernal thing.

"Go ahead and change," Julie said with a laugh as she turned around to face away from him. "Don't worry, I'll protect you from prying eyes!"

Billy found himself giggling along as he took off his shirt (he kept the black tank top he wore underneath it on, of course) and stuffed it into his nearly empty handbag. Then he threw on the blue shirt and put his hoodie on over it.

"Blue's a good color on you," Julie commented as she led Billy to the front of the group. Many of the other fans gave him a little nod or smile as he passed, and he suddenly had the strangest feeling of acceptance.

"So, where are you from?" Julie asked, returning to the booth with Samantha in tow. She glanced at her watch and felt excitement rush through her when she saw there were only a few minutes before the tour began. She started to pack up her booth as she talked to Samantha. The goal was to ask casual questions to help the girl loosen up and relax.

"Oregon," Samantha replied with a shrug. "Bend. Near there, anyway."

"Oh really?" Julia said. Normally she would have been faking interest at this point, but this time she was actually listening to what Samantha had to say. She liked something about this girl. "What brought you to L.A.?"

"I dunno," Samantha shrugged again, now helping Julia fold up the shirts. "I just had to get away from it all, you know?"

"Parents?"

"Yeah."

"Gotcha," Julia said with a sympathetic look. "I couldn't wait to get out of the house. Now I'm going to a community college. You?"

Samantha shrugged for a third time. She still seemed a bit insecure, but her shyness was starting to lessen. "I'm just getting set up here. I haven't thought about it yet."

"It's nice," Julia said, taping up the last box. "And it's worth it, even if it's only for the guys. Do _you_ have a guy?"

"Huh?" Samantha seemed to be caught off guard by the question. "Oh, uhm . . . no, I don't, actually."

"Really?" Julie asked. "Did you leave anyone behind in Bend?"

"Uhm . . . no," Samantha admitted.

But Julie wasn't listening, she was grinning at her watch.

The tour was about to start.

_I don't really like the title for this chapter, but it's the best that I could come up with. Actually, I'm not to fond of this chapter in general. I'm open to suggestions._


	6. TOURED

Chapter Six: Toured

Billy felt his stomach flip when Julie announced the time. Was it really about to start? He'd gotten sidetracked talking to Julie and ad-libbing "Samantha's" past. He hadn't realized that the nice girl had led him to the front of the crowd and now they were standing about two feet from the first of five steps that led to the front door.

He'd be the first thing Captain Hammer saw when he opened the door. Crap.

Panic was beginning to rise up in his chest, but he fought it back down and tried to focus on breathing evenly. His mind kept running through possible escapes, but nothing good came up.

This was _so_ not part of the plan! How could he sneak away if he was at the front of the group? Maybe he could pretend to tie his shoelace or something and fall behind. But would it look suspicious if he didn't rush to catch up with Julie at the front of the pack?

God, he wished Moist hadn't left yet . . .

There was only one thing that came to mind. He began to search through his handbag, his hands frantically pushing things aside.

"Oh, no . . . oh, _no_!" He exclaimed in a whisper, snapping shut the bag and glancing around the crows as though he was looking for something.

"What?" Julie asked. "What's wrong?"

"I can't find my cell phone!" Billy squeaked. "It must have fallen out when I was changing my shirt!"

"I'll help you look," Julie offered, but Billy shook his head.

"No, no, no, it's okay," he called, disappearing into the crowd. "You go ahead--I'll catch up!"

At first he thought she was going to follow him anyway, but then she nodded and went back to watching the front door. Billy felt relief wash over him as he returned to the back of the group and crouched to the ground, pretending to search through the grass.

He'd been down for maybe a minute when a cheer erupted from the assembled fans. Jumping to his feet, Billy saw Captain hammer standing in the doorway, grinning at his brainless little minions.

The hero started off on a speech about how he normally kept what they were about to see a secret (well, other than the parties he was always hosting, but that didn't count because there was no way fans like them would ever be invited to such a gathering), but, out of the kindness of his heart, he was allowing them all an exclusive peek into his private world. Billy had to remind himself not to roll his eyes, and instead clapped politely, throwing in a cheer here and there to keep up appearances as Captain Hammer listed all of his "good deeds."

Finally, it was over. The crowd began to move towards the door and Billy saw Julie looking for him. Too late, he tried to look away but their eyes locked and she waved to him, motioning for him to join her at the front. Inside, he groaned and cursed. Of all the stupid luck, his new alter ego had made a best friend after fifteen minutes of being on the job.

Having no excuse, Billy breezed his way through the crowd (it was unnerving, the way they parted for him as if he was Moses and they were the Red Sea.) and joined Julie . . . right behind Captain Hammer.

Even though there was no chance of Hammer recognizing him, Billy still had trouble breathing at a steady pace. This was _way_ too close for comfort. Besides, the last time he had made contact with his nemesis, he'd ended up with a bloody face and a trashed apartment. It was normal to be freaking out right now, wasn't it?

Julie mistook his fear for excitement and squeezed his gloved hand with hers and gave him a huge grin. He could tell it was taking all of her self control not to squeal right now.

Billy's heart leapt into his throat when Captain Hammer spoke as he led them aall through the front door.

"I know all of you have been waiting a very long time for this. You have all fought for your tickets and won them fair and square--" Several fangirls twittered, recalling the blood they had shed at the ticket booth. Billy couldn't help but be reminded of _Charlie and the Chocolate Factory_. "--and now it is all about to be rewarded. Welcome to my city home! Of course, I have one in the country and others at various beaches for vacationing, but this is my _real_ home.

"Prepare to be _amazed_!"

Billy had to fight the impulse to laugh. Seriously.

Captain Hammer had led them into a plain white hallway. There really wasn't anything spectacular about it. It was pretty boring, actually.

Their guide turned to face them, and, walking backwards, said, "Now, I know what you're all thinking--_What the heck is THIS? This isn't exciting! Why on earth did I pay twenty five bucks for a ticket to see THIS?_

"Well, first off the money you spent on your tickets goes to a _very_ excellent cause: Helping the homeless!" The fans cheered and Billy coughed into a gloved hand and stared at the ground in annoyance. "Bless you, Miss . . . ?" Hammer's voice trailed off, waiting for a reply. Julie jumped right in.

"Billings," she said with a grin at both Captain Hammer and her new friend. "Samantha Billings. She's new to L.A. Moved from Bend, Oregon."

"Thank you, Julie," Captain Hammer said, returning her smile. He was obviously familiar with her. Then he turned to Billy. "That explains why I don't recognize you! I would have remembered a face as pretty as yours!"

Billy looked down at polished tile floor again, causing the fans and their idol to laugh. They thought he was trying to hide his blush, but in reality he was covering up his frustration.

This stupid plan had gone to pot. Not only had Hammer seen him, but he'd spoken to him and knew his false name and background, too! How was he supposed to get away from the crowd now? Especially with Julie's vice-like grip on his wrist?

He couldn't, plain and simple. This plan was shot. The only thing he could do was keep his eyes open and try to locate what he was looking for. Then he'd have an idea of where it was, for in case he ever got the guts to break in and steal it back.

While all this was rushing through Billy's mind, Captain Hammer was continuing his speech. "Don't be fretting over your 'wasted' money just yet! This is only the entry way. I hardly use it, since I prefer to come in through the basement, AKA the_ Hamcave_!" The mention of the 'cave aroused a series of cheers and squeals. Hammer was loving every second of it. "So I saw no reason to spice it up, really," he shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe I will, one day. But, in the meantime, I present--_my kitchen_!"

Everyone gasped. The kitchen looked like something out of a, well, a mansion. Every surface was highly polished, the windows were framed by elegant drapes, and rare and exotic plants lined the walls.

Captain hammer, leaning against the counter and basking in the admiration of his fans, said, "Magnificent, isn't it? I don't use it that much--I don't do cooking--but it's a good place to hold the wine, champagne, and an assortment of other drinks. Now, let's continue!"

He led them through every room on the first floor, letting them explore and examine things. Billy carefully checked every nook and cranny that he could without looking suspicious, but couldn't find anything. It seemed like his quest was hopeless, until Hammer took them down a hallway to the stairs and pointed at a door on the right.

"And that is the _public restroom_," Hammer said. "If anyone needs to go, now is the time. You can catch up with use on the second floor."

It felt as if Billy had just removed a big, heavy fur coat with tons of rocks in the pockets. He smiled a real smile for the first time during the entire tour.

As the rest of the tour proceeded up the stairs, Billy made his way to the bathroom. Julie felt the need to stay behind and watch over the new addition to the fandom, of course.

"I'll wait for you," she said happily, as though it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Er…that's okay. You don't have to," Billy said. He had heard about girls forming little gangs just to go to the bathroom, but didn't have any experience with it. Julie must be trying to do something like that. "I mean . . . I might _be awhile_…"

"Gotcha," Julie said, not embarrassed at all. "I'll see you upstairs, then." She took the steps two at a time while Billy slunk into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

He waited in the bathroom for a few minutes, using the time to primp his appearance and make sure his voice was still working properly. Listening to make sure no one was around, he unlocked the door and sneaked out as quietly as he could. It would have been a lot quieter if he hadn't knocked over the random umbrella stand that was just outside the door, but no one came charging after him so he assumed that he had gone unheard.

He went back to the entrance hal and walked himself through the entire tour all over again, but slower this time. He thoroughly checked every square inch of the house, taking mental notes of possible entrances and exits, but the search yielded no results.

He hid behind a couch when Captain Hammer lead the tour down the stairs and back into the kitchen for a farewell drink. When they were all distracted, Billy took the opportunity to sprint up the stairs and check things out.

The rooms on the second floor were set up better than the ones downstairs. They looked like they were meant for public display more than anything else. Hammer must hold any parties he threw up here, judging by the bar towards the back of the lounge.

Billy was searching behind the bottles on the shelves when he slowly became aware of the silence. Gone was the good natured laughter, gone was the occasional squeal, gone was the idiotic cheering. There was nothing but absolute silence.

He stood stock still, clutching a nearly empty bottle in each hand. His ears were straining as he tried to pick up even the slightest sound.

Then he heard it.

Footsteps, coming up the stairs.

Billy moaned when he realized what he had done.

He'd trapped himself in the house.

Alone with Captain Hammer.

_**I really don't like this chapter. I kept meaning to rewrite it, but never had enough time. So I decided that I may as well type it up and see what you guys think. Also, this has been edited half-assedly. Meaning I ran spellcheck, but didn't read through it or anything. If you see any typos, please let me know!**_

_**Also, if you have any ideas that would make this chapter better, please let me know! I REALLY hate this chapter! :(**_


	7. QUESTIONED

Chapter Seven: Questioned

A/N: Look what I found in my closet! :D

And, as always, I don't own Dr. H or any of his buddies.

-Shnee!-

Billy's heart skipped a beat and he dropped to the ground, releasing the bottles which rolled and clinked along the tiled floor. His back pressed against the counter, he tried to come up with an excuse. How was he supposed to explain why he was snooping around Captain Hammer's house? That he got separated from the tour group? Please. Only a real _idiot_ would believe-oh, wait. Right.

The door opened and, peeking around the corner, Billy saw Captain Hammer enter. The hero was whistling absentmindedly as he crossed the room to the couch. He looked like he was going to sit down, but instead he just took his boots off before continuing to the bar.

Billy scooted around the counter, trying to keep it between him and Hammer. As the latter cursed the bottles on the floor, nearly tripping over them, Billy cursed the jeans he was wearing as they were too tight to maneuver comfortably.

Lifting himself slightly, so he could just peer over the countertop, he saw the other man going through the bottles on the shelf. His opponent distracted, the villain darted across the room, hoping to make it through the open door without incident. Unfortunately, God seemed to have something against him.

His foot caught on the leg of a table in the middle of the room and his ankle made an unholy popping noise as he crumpled to the ground. Ever the Good Samaritan, Captain Hammer was by his side in an instant, helping him to one of the couches.

"I'm sorry," Billy gasped, both in terror and pain as he searched for an excuse. "I got separated from-there was a mouse and-my sense of direction isn't very . . ." His voice died away. Hammer was sitting beside him on the couch, wearing an obnoxiously kind smile. It was more of a smirk, really. "_What?_"

"Oh, come on," Hammer chuckled. "Samantha, right?" Billy flinched at the sound of his fake name. "Look, you don't need to lie to me." One of the Captain's strong, gloved hands alighted upon Billy's knee. "I know why you're here."

At that point, Billy started to think that perhaps a freaking groupie wasn't the best disguise. He tried smiling as politely as he could and fought the urge to scream and jump out the nearest window as he moved Hammer's hand away with his own. Bad move. The idiot took this as a sign of friendliness. Grasping Billy's hand in his, he moved closer. Too close. Their legs brushed against each other. Billy's soul withered and died.

"You're a reporter," Captain Hammer continued, oblivious to Billy's discomfort. "You straggled behind so you could get me alone." Billy opened his mouth to explain, but the hero went on. "Now, normally I would kick any such snoop out of the house, but since I _know _you-" Billy's heart skipped. What did _that_ mean? "-I'll let you stay."

"You know me?" Billy squeaked. He tried to smile, but the result was more of a grimace. Hammer didn't notice.

"Sure! We met this morning!" He laughed, draping his free arm across Billy's shoulders.

Having reached his limit, Billy jumped up, ignoring the pain in his ankle. "You have so many drinks!" He exclaimed, desperately searching for an excuse. "Why don't we have one?" Key word being 'one.' He didn't want to get Hammer totally loaded. God knows what might happen then.

"Well, sure," Captain Hammer, his brow furrowed in confusion, looked from the previously occupied seat beside him to Billy and back again. The sudden movement had happened so fast that his brain was having trouble catching up.

Drinks were administered and Billy resumed sitting, although this time on the other side of the couch. Safely out of the other's reach, he tried to see how he could twist the situation to fit his needs. Deciding to go with Hammer's "reporter" theory, he dug out pen and a pad of post it notes-Moist's suggestion, as such items were very handy for writing down phone numbers and getting autographs.

"So," Captain Hammer said, seemingly a little disappointed that his guest chose to sit so far away. He was all smiles, though. "What would you like to know?"

"Well, for starters," Billy tapped the pencil against his chin, searching for a question. Somehow he had to lead the conversation to the theft. "Why don't we start at the top? Tell me about your nemesis, Dr. Horrible." He braced himself for what would follow, not sure he wanted to hear it.

"_Oh_, that nerd," Hammer chuckled, taking a sip from his glass. "What about him?"

"Well," Billy clenched his teeth, ignoring the slight. "He's gone underground, apparently. Have you seen him lately?"

"'Underground'? Please. The guy lives in this lame apartment. You'd think a villain would have something a bit bigger. Seriously."

"So you've been to his lair?" Why, God, why had he turned the conversation to himself? He was just asking for the destruction of what little self esteem he had left.

"Yeah, once. A few days ago, actually," Hammer said. "But you don't wanna hear about _that_. Why don't we talk about my morning routine?"

"No, no, no, it's okay. Why were you at his apartment?"

Captain Hammer emptied his glass and shrugged. "I just followed him home, that's all. I was curious. I beat this guy up on a weekly basis-" Billy flinched. "-but I don't really know much about him, you know?"

"Yeah," Billy scribbled illegible notes on the pad of paper, keeping his eyes on his pencil. He would really rather not meet Hammer's eyes again. It was scary, really, being so close to the guy. Had he not been in disguise, he would have been beaten to a bloody pulp by now. "You followed him home and . . . ?"

"I followed him home and-You wanna get me another glass? That one on the top shelf. Yeah. Thanks-I followed him home and took a good look at the place . . ."

Hammer continued to talk as Billy, eager to get away from the couch, hobbled to the bar. The indicated bottle was pretty high and had to stand on the tip toes to get it, and even then his fingers barely touched it. Trying to stretch just a bit more, he heard his ankle crack again and he let out a whimper, retracting his reaching arms and leaning against the shelving, cradling his crippled limb.

" . . . I mean, come on, if you're going to own a house, hire a decorator! You wouldn't _believe _the ocean of sh- You need help?"

"Oh, no, I've got it," Billy insisted with a smile, but Hammer was already on his feet to the rescue.

Everything probably would have worked out fine, except that the big, stupid lummox didn't look where he was going and stepped right on one of the bottles that Billy had left on the floor. His feet flew out from under him and he went sailing right into the wounded spy, knocking them both to the ground.

His head hitting against the shelves on his way down, Billy was a little fuzzy in the brain as he tried to figure out what was going on. He was on the ground. That was okay. The tiling was nice and cool against his back. But then he became aware of something hot and heavy on top of him, and, at first, he couldn't tell what it was. The world swam before his eyes and, when it finally became still, he found himself staring into Captain Hammer's eyes.

"My, what an interesting position we find ourselves in," Hammer chuckled, making no effort to stand. He leaned closer to Billy, who was silently hyperventilating, his lips brushing against his ear as he whispered, "But it's not the _most_ interesting position we _could_ be in."

"N-no way!" Billy spat, eyes wide as he pushed against Hammer's chest. It was no use, of course, but it was something to do. "You get the hell off of me. _Now_."

"Okay, okay, okay," Hammer said, throwing his hands up in surrender as he stood, then gently lifted Billy up. "Excuse _me_!" He returned to the couch, looking a bit sulky.

Trying to recover, which meant leaning against the counter and taking deep breaths until the adrenaline left his body, Billy cautiously felt the back of his head. Ouch. That was gonna be a bitch in the morning.

"Do you have any other questions?" Hammer asked, as if trying to gloss over the incident and pretend that it never happened.

"Uhm…yeah…yeah. When you were in Dr. Horrible's . . . uh," His head was throbbing and he was having a hard time focusing. Where did he live again? "_Apartment_, did you see anything . . . interesting?" God, what he wouldn't give for a couple Advil.

"Interesting? The guy's a mad scientist for Christ's sake! Of course I saw something interesting!"

Billy pretended to take notes while Hammer prattled on for another half an hour or so, bashing the various instruments of evil that Billy had spent his life inventing. Good God the man could talk, and he knew where it hurt, too. Finally, unable to take it anymore, Billy cut in, "I should go. It's getting late."

"-and this great big chair! Who the hell has a chair that big? It's stupid!" Hammer chuckled to himself, then sighed. "It is, isn't it?"

"Yup," Billy tucked the paper and pencil into his purse, glad to finally be getting out of there, and walked towards the door. He stumbled again, and Hammer held out a hand to catch him, but he said, "No, no, I got this."

He carefully made his way down the stairs, Hammer following. Just as he reached the front door and made to open it, the hero grabbed his wrist. Billy's heart raced. He was so close! Why couldn't he just go home?

"Hey," Hammer's voice was soft, as was his touch. It was so weird. Billy would much rather have the stuffing beat out of him. Of course, all the stuffing in the world couldn't save him from what came next.

"Do you think . . . I could see you again?"


	8. PHONED

Chapter Eight: Phoned

A/N: I found this one, too! I plan to start writing again, so hopefully you'll be seeing more (frequently updated) updates in the near future :D (I don't own Dr. Horrible! Stop pestering me! D)

-Shnee!-

"And you said _yes_?" Moist exclaimed, staring at his friend in disbelief. Billy had just finished telling him about the day's events (excluding the "lying-on-the-floor-with-Captain-Hammer-on-top incident"), and Moist found them quite incredible.

"Yes, Moist, I said, 'yes,'" Billy repeated the news for the third time that evening. They were in the kitchen, and he was finally out of those tight clothes. Baggy pants and a loose, frayed sweatshirt had never felt so good. His voice was back to normal and he was sitting at the table, his face buried in his hands as he massaged his temples. He didn't know _what_ he drank at Captain Hammer's place, but it was giving him a massive headache.

"Moist? Do you think my apartment is lame?"

"Do I think-what are you talking about? You've got a date with Captain Hammer and you're worried about your apartment? What's _wrong_ with you, man?" Moist exploded, whacking Billy upside the head, which set off the throbbing of both his headache and bruise.

"Watch it," he moaned, sinking onto the table. "And it's not such a bad thing, you know."

"Oh, yeah? How so? Looks pretty crappy to me."

"See, by befriending Captain Hammer, I ensure another visit to his house."

"So you _are_ gay prostitute!"

"_What?"_

"You're selling yourself for chances to raid his house!"

"I am _not_ 'selling' myself!"

"Please," Moist crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. "Why _else_ would Captain Hammer invite a groupie to his house? The_ hammer _is itching to get out of the _toolbox_, man!"

"You-he-I-Hammer-that's just gross, Moist! What's wrong with _you_?"

"You can't deny it! Hammer is just trying to get in your pants!"

"Look, quit referring to the groupie as _me_, okay? Her name is Samantha. Captain Hammer wants into _Samantha's_ pants."

"But _you're_ Samantha!"

"Okay, you know what? You're stupid."

"_I'm_ stupid? I'm not the one parading around in front of my number one enemy while wearing drag!"

"But for a good cause!"

"So you _admit it!_"

"God, Moist! Shut up!" Billy slid his chair back from the table and marched into the living room. Moist followed, still chattering about trivial details. "Shut up shut up SHUT UP!" When his demands were not met, Billy reverted to the childish method of plugging his ears and screaming nursery rhymes at the top of his lungs.

"Listen to me! Billy!"

"Mary had a little lamb! Little lamb!"

"Shut up, you psychopath!"

"LITTLE LAMB! Mary had-"

"You have to think logically about this-"

"A little lamb-"

"Or else you'll-"

"Whose fleece was-"

"Get screwed! And I-"

"White as SNOW!"

"Mean that in multiple ways!"

"That's just wrong, Moist," Billy grimaced, unplugging his ears. "Really now, be honest. Do you have, like, little _fantasies_ about me and Captain Hammer?"

"No, but I'll bet a bunch of the readers do," Moist shrugged, sitting on the couch. "But, seriously, Doc, think about it. You know how the guy is."

"He's dating Penny, though," Billy pointed out, if somewhat grudgingly.

"And that's a good thing now?"

"Well, no," Billy admitted. "But hopefully it'll be enough to make Hammer at least hesitate before he tries to do anything . . . maybe."

"Yeah, maybe," Moist laughed harshly. "And you realize how much shit you'll be in if he finds out about this Cecilia-"

"Samantha."

"-whatever. If he finds out it's you, you'll probably be killed."

Billy nodded. "But I doubt he'll figure it out. The guy isn't very smart."

Yeah, but even so, be careful."

"Don't you worry, Moisty ol' buddy ol' pal," Billy laughed somewhat sarcastically. "I won't get caught. Even if I do, I'm used to abuse."

"But _sexual_ abuse?"

"ENOUGH!"

-Shnee!-

Luckily for Billy, Captain Hammer hadn't pressed the issue when Samantha said she didn't have a phone yet. Thus, Hammer's phone number was tucked in Billy's back pocket as he went out to purchase a new cell phone. He already had one, of course, but he figured it would be best if he and Samantha led completely separate lives.

Wanting to practice being in character, he went out in disguise. Moist wasn't around to force him into freakishly tight clothes, so he wore loose jeans and a red hoodie.

The journey to the mall was pretty uneventful (although he thought he saw Moist rolling his eyes at him from across the street), and so was the walk to the Verizon place in the mall. Unfortunately, upon walking _into_ the store, he heard something that made his stomach flip.

"Samantha!"

It was Julie. She had spotted him. There was no escape. She charged and hit him at full speed, wrapping him in a hug that nearly squeezed the very life out of him. Pulling back, her face one big smile of flawless teeth, she asked, "What on earth happened to _you_?"

"Oh, I just got separated and couldn't get back to the group," Billy shrugged, hoping that would suffice.

Julie seemed to accept it, because changed the subject to the variety of phones on display. "Oh, you're getting a cell? Awesome! Oh, you should really go for one of those sliding ones with the full on keyboard! It makes texting so much easier! Oh, here-" She grabbed his wrist and took a marker from a mug on the table, writing her phone number on his skin. "-call me as soon as you get hooked up, okay? I can tell you about the part of the tour you missed. 'Course, I'd tell you now, but I've got to set up a birthday party for my niece. See ya!"

She ran off before Billy could thank her, not that he was very thankful. Now Samantha had no excuse for being social. She couldn't just disappear off the face of the earth. She would probably be expected to have an email and a facebook and all that fun stuff, too. Crap.

With a sigh, he made eye contact with the lady behind the counter and inquired about the phone Julie had pointed out.

-Shnee!-

It took Billy four hours of aimless chatter to get out of that store. That's what it felt like, anyway. The stupid salesperson had been trying to interest him in this, that, and the other. Jeez. He was afraid he'd be there all night.

But finally, he managed to escape. Free to move under the radar as the barely known Samantha, he made his way to a quiet part of the park before dialing a certain phone number.

He almost had a heart attack when it stopped ringing and that certain someone picked up. "Captain Hammer? Uh, hey, it's Samantha. I was thinking that, maybe, tomorrow, we could, I 'unno, do . . . something?"


End file.
